


if it's not with you

by morzz



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Marching Band, F/M, Gen, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 02:13:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4204071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morzz/pseuds/morzz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[High School AU] Right, so. Amy Santiago is a nerd. Everyone who joins marching band is specifically one, but she stands out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if it's not with you

**Author's Note:**

> a memoir of sorts.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I mean no doubt, Jake has made friends with the entire marching band this year. But what makes Amy Santiago so special?
> 
>  _Homework help probably,_ he thinks.

PART ONE

Freshman Year 2014-2015 

Right, so. Amy Santiago is a nerd. Everyone who joins marching band is specifically one, but she stands out. There's a presence to her that one cannot truly capture but one can guess. She’s one of those geeks who practices their instruments, clarinet in her case, every other afternoon. She takes band _very_ seriously – she’s gotten into county bands and state bands, solos for each piece. A musical prodigy/overall hardworker, if you may. So when marching band camp starts, she is game.

Band rehearsal is three days before the camp starts. That’s where they all learn the music and sustain the awkward introductions. Raymond Holt, the band director, is as stoic as any statue, and Amy can only admire him as such. There’s Hitchcock and Scully, seniors, that play the bass drum and cymbals and for some reason, can never play in sync with each other; Charles Boyle, a junior piccolo; Terry Jeffords is a sophomore and plays the quads, Amy had only spoke to him a few times and has already decided that she trusts him with her life. Oh, and then the freshmen: Rosa Diaz, the baritone sax player that looks angry and vicious all the time; Gina Linetti is in the color guard, she’s flamboyant, it suits her. Lastly, of course, there’s that trumpet Jake Peralta. He’s fresh, alright. Amy finds him a little cute and a little vile at the same time. But she tries not to think much of it.

First day of camp, they learn the basics. How to march forwards, sideways. Now here’s the thing – Amy Santiago has zero tolerance for heat. So when it’s approximately only 10 AM, two hours in the day, she starts feeling queasy and heated. But it’s the first day and she’s a freshman, so she powers through it. Everyone has a breaking point though, and next thing you know everything is black and Holt is cradling her, telling not to get up.

“Amy, stay still. You have just passed out. Do you know where we are?” he says as gently as he can.

“Here,” Amy answers dumbfoundedly.

“Yes, well, what–” he continues.

“We’re in the field of our high school. Brooklyn High. Suburban North Jersey.” In the corner of Amy’s eye, she notices that the entire band has stopped what they were doing and stood off to the side, probably whispering how embarrassing this whole thing is. She doesn’t notice who it is but there’s one kid that hands Holt a chilled reusable water bottle, and Holt urges  her drink from it. In that state, she doesn’t  care whose it is . She’s  just desperate to get some rest, and hope for prosperity.

Of course, they call 911. Embarrassing Amy enough. They ask her questions, take  her heart rate, blood pressure, all that. The saddest thing she thinks is that she ate her breakfast, she was game. But she did neglect drinking copious amounts of water, drinking only enough of what she wanted to muster, so she continued to drink from the water bottle until her mom came to pick her up.

“Mr. Holt, whose bottle is this?” she asks, handing the empty bottle. _Yeah_ , she drank the whole thing. “Jake Peralta was kind enough to lend you his. I’m sure he’ll find satisfaction in saving your life with his 40% ice water.”

“Oh,” she’s a little shocked. She drank the whole bottle unabashedly and now her DNA will be at his disposal. Good. Great. “I guess you should give Jake my thanks. Thank you, Mr. Holt, I appreciate you. I mean- I- Thank you for taking care of me. For a little while. I guess you’re supposed to do that to all your students. Okay. See you tomorrow, if the doctor allows it. I’m rambling a little bit, but that’s just me. That’s not the effects of the fainting. Thank you, goodbye, sir,” she tensely fretted.

“Feel better, Amy,” he advises with sympathy. He doesn’t smile but Amy is flourished by it. Her favorite teacher definitely just showed compassion to her and she smiles.

* * *

Jake Peralta walks into his last period late on the first day of school. It’s English I Honors, by the way. A class he didn’t want to voluntarily be in. It’s just his mom forced the school to accept him into the course. It turns out well though because there is only one other boy in the class and he’s sort of giving out pretentious and apparently smart jock vibes. He’s a no-go. Jake has no friends in this class. But there is that pretty Santiago girl he’s been eyeing since band camp. They haven’t been formally acquainted, but he’d  _like_ to.

He sits next to her, of course, and then proceeds to put his chin on the desk.

“You’re Jake, right?” The very first words she ever says to him. A Level 1 accomplishment.

“Uh, yeah. Clarinet Amy? Passed out the first day?”

“Yes,” she blushes reluctantly.

“Glad to make your acquaintance, Amy Santiago.” A Level 2 accomplishment, possibly.

“How did you know my last name?”

“Oh yeah,” he stutters. “Holt told me. I’m Jake Peralta.”

“Pleasure,” she says before she turns back to the teacher who began teaching. It’s the first day, and they’re already analyzing some excerpt. He’s not gonna read it. Their teacher is some blond woman, kind of scary. Her name’s Wuntch, he thinks because he’s not sure. He’s gonna hate this class in its entirety. Well, except for one thing.

She flips her hair and turns toward him. “I’ll be your only friend in this class,” she tells him.

_Oh._

“You don’t seem to know anyone else. And you’re not even listening to the teacher so. We probably have a lot in common,” she starts nodding furiously. “Yeah, band and we have physics together too. Yeah. Yeah. Friends.” She turns back to the board, and blushes furiously.

He smiles at her, just enough to let her see he’s endeared. Enough for her to see in her peripherals. Making new friends must be a Level 4 accomplishment, right? I mean no doubt, Jake has made friends with the entire marching band this year. But what makes Amy Santiago so special?

 _Homework help probably,_ he thinks.

* * *

Before Jake can even take a seat at the lab table, Amy is already complaining how much she hates Halloween. Today  is the day of, and she is having none of it. “This whole day is not even worth it, except for the football game tonight, but honestly…” she goes on. Jake is, of course, just standing there in banana costume. His innuendoes are ready but this isn’t the right time or the right audience.

“Sorry. You can sit next to me, Jake,” Amy notices him, and he sits as he’s been told. He pouts and leans his head down on the table. He hates physics, is nearly failing, and they never actually do any Cool Labs.

“Oooh, Amy likes Jake,” Kylie contradicts. She’s been Amy’s best friend since elementary school. She doesn’t play an instrument or do band but she knows the like. She _definitely_ knows of Jake. Amy only looks at her passively, hoping Jake didn’t hear it since he’s bummed about physics and their extra thirty minute lab period.

Oh, but he did. He shrugs it off and pretends not to smile, but he does anyway.

* * *

“Okay okay okay okay okay. We’ll just go around this oddly shaped form that we have going. You can ask me first. I pick dare,” Jake initiates the truth or dare round sometime between first quarter. Honestly, marching band kids don’t ever watch the football games. Jake usually does, he keeps score all the time; but tonight is Halloween, which means it’s supposed to be super spooky and spontaneous. Mostly, spontaneous. That’s why truth or dare ensues.

“JAKE I DARE YOU TO GET AMY TO PLAY WITH US.” That was Charles’ screaming all the way from two stands down. The hierarchy of the band in the stands goes as follows from the bottom up: percussion (where Terry plays quads, Hitchcock and Scully too), piccolos and flutes (Charles is a piccolo), clarinets ( ~~♡~~ Amy Santiago ~~♡~~ ), trumpets (yours truly, Jacob Peralta), then the saxophones, brass, and bass instruments (Rosa falls into that category). Last, the colour guard are on the highest part of the stands, fitting for Gina and all her claims as being Queen.

Back to Jake’s dare– Jake looks at Amy, noticing her brown eyes and her long eyelashes and the slight pink tint in her clips. It’s starting to get chillier in October and most of the time, his lips become chapped, but hers are  fine. Oh boy.

“You in?” he asks.

“Sure,” she nods determinedly. If he knew any better, Amy probably played truth or dare to win.

“Alright then. Amy, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Do you hate me or not?” Everyone playing, no matter how dissipated their seats are, are listening for an answer. “Because you’re always mean to me, and you scream at me all the time, and call me inappropriate names like ‘dork.’ I would presume that you like bullying me but _really_ , what is it?”

“Oh boy. Well,” Amy precedes, “I don’t hate you, Jake. I mean, you’re mostly very quiet in class. But out of it, oh my god. Sometimes you just get very annoying and you go on and on about Die Hard– which by the way, I have never seen! I don’t mind it so much because most of the time I find it endearing yet still very annoying–” _Endearing_ caught him by a shock. He smirks very slightly. She’s roasting him and he’s enjoying every bit.

“Other than that, if you’re wondering why I yell at you all the time– it’s because you are _always_ out of step, and it ruins our _entire_ performance. Please get your feet together, Jake.” He gasps and pretends to be offended, when he really isn’t. At this point, no one is actually listening to them babbling anymore.They’ve got their answer, and the football game is actually pretty interesting. Jake takes this to his advantage and asks her more questions.

“What about ‘dork?’ What do you get from causing me so much pain?”

“Mostly power,” she banters. They are bantering. “And leverage over you. Dork.”

“Oh, so if you don’t hate me, do you like me?” His voice gets overthrown by everyone else’s. They’ve just scored a goal.

“What?” Amy yells as she picks up her instrument. She eventually turns to play, disbanding Jake and the conversation they had.

 _Phew,_ Jake thinks. Football - 14, Jake - 0.

Okay, it’s more like Football - 14, Jake - 2.

That’s not how football works, but just let him have the two points for banter.

* * *

10-31-14 / 10:30PM  
From: charlez boylez  
You asleep, Jake?

10-31-14 / 10:30PM  
From: Jacob Peralta  
it’s 10:30 boyle wtf no  
  
10-31-14 / 10:32PM  
From: charlez boylez  
So Amy...  
  
10-31-14 / 10:33PM  
From: Jacob Peralta  
what

10-31-14 / 10:34PM  
From: charlez boylez  
Every year, we always try to get someone together with someone else in the marching band. This year it’s you two.  
  
10-31-14 / 10:37PM  
From: Jacob Peralta  
amy????? why  
  
10-31-14 / 10:37PM  
From: Jacob Peralta  
@Yahweh

10-31-14 / 10:39PM  
From: charlez boylez  
Have you seen the way you look at her?

10-31-14 / 10:45PM  
From: Jacob Peralta  
i don’t like her.. go to sleep boyle  
  
10-31-14 / 10:45PM  
From: charlez boylez  
Good night Jake !  
  
10-31-14 / 11:47PM  
From: Jacob Peralta  
ok maybe i like her a lil

 

* * *

 

10-31-14 / 11:01 PM  
From: Amy S.  
Sarge, do you think Jake likes me?

10-31-14 / 11:02PM  
From: Terry Jeffords  
Tbh, yes. It’s obvs  
  
10-31-14 / 11:02PM  
From: Amy S.  
I KNEW IT  
  
10-31-14 / 11:03PM  
From: Amy S.  
Sigh. Do you think he’s going to act on it?  
  
10-31-14 / 11:03PM  
From: Terry Jeffords  
Peralta? I know his type. He’s never had a girlfriend & I doubt he’d have the courage 2 tell u.  
  
10-31-14 / 11:04PM  
From: Amy S.  
He’s decent, Sarge. But I’m actually going on a date tomorrow.  
  
10-31-14 / 11:05PM  
From: Terry Jeffords  
Who’s the lucky man? OR woman  
  
10-31-14 / 11:06PM  
From: Amy S.  
His name is Teddy. We went to preschool together. That was the last time I saw him but now we’re in the same gym class and he’s the only person that can keep up with my running!!

10-31-14 / 11:06PM  
From: Amy S.  
We’re just having dinner. That’s all.  
  
10-31-14 / 11:07PM  
From: Terry Jeffords  
Well have fun Santiago. & don’t let this Jake thing get u down, it’s probably nothin srs.

 

* * *

 

10-31-14 / 11:37PM  
From: Jake Peralta  
u like taylor swift?  
  
10-31-14 / 11:39PM  
From: amelia santiago  
Sure.  
  
10-31-14 / 11:40PM  
From: Jake Peralta  
whats ur fav?  
  
10-31-14 / 11:41PM  
From: amelia santiago  
I don’t listen to her a lot. Maybe Love Story.  
  
10-31-14 / 11:42PM  
From: Jake Peralta  
oh nice. but check ur privilege amelia she has 5 albums  
  
10-31-14 / 11:43PM  
From: amelia santiago  
Amelia?  
  
10-31-14 / 11:43PM  
From: Jake Peralta  
isn’t that ur 1st name  
  
10-31-14 / 11:44PM  
From: amelia santiago  
No, it’s not.  
  
10-31-14 / 11:45PM  
From: Jake Peralta  
ok……… anyways… i’m gonna make u beginners 2 taylor swift playlist  
  
10-31-14 / 11:46PM  
From: Jake Peralta  
peep my mix in a few days  
  
10-31-14 / 11:46PM  
From: amelia santiago  
I will. Goodnight Jake.  
  
10-31-14 / 11:47PM  
From: Jake Peralta  
night ames

 

* * *

“Oh my god. This tie is perfect for Captain Holt,” Amy holds up a sleek, simple, black tie, “and  it’s on sale! So it’s like spending nothing!”

“God, Amy, get a grip,” Gina denounces. They’re at Macy’s, shopping for Secret Santa. “He said no gifts. No gifts with a red circle and a line through it. It’s probably tattooed on him.”

“But it’s exactly his taste!”

“Yes, if his taste is as tasteless as his soul. His dark, dark, putrid soul,” Gina’s overreacting. “That’s not even black. That’s onyx, Ames.”

“Ugh,” Amy puts the tie down, only to secretly pick it back up, and put into their cart.

“High school freshmen with shopping carts,” Gina whispers as she pulls from the front, “times are a-changing, Ames. We are _ruling_ Macy’s thrifty and nifty.”

That is, in fact, what they are doing. Gina and Amy’s trip to the mall to buy Christmas gifts for Secret Santa and all the like  was a success. Gina got Jake, which she got him forty dollar dress shoes. Shiny and leather– ALL FOR FORTY DOLLARS. She had gotten him a blue suit jacket for ten dollars at some vintage store too, patched it up with her sewing skills, and it looks brand new and suitable for Jake.

On the other hand, Amy bought Boyle a fifty dollar coffeemaker. It was– as everything they had bought– on sale. And fitting for Boyle, who consumes too much coffee for his small height and delicate body. _Oh my god, is that what stunted his growth,_ Amy thinks. _Nope._

They pay everything with Gina’s credit card that was signed off by Jake’s grandmother. Slightly ironic but not surprising.

* * *

Their Christmas party is held in Charles’ basement. It’s all their closed-knitted marching band group plus Teddy. Teddy is Amy’s boyfriend; yeah, the one she went on a date with on the day after Halloween. She actually ended up asking him. They were eating calzones.

Their Secret Santa price range was fifty dollars or lower. “Precious cinnamon buns of the world wouldn’t spend any cheaper than fifty dollars, okay,” Gina contradicts. “If you do, God would be disappointed in you.”

Secret Santa goes as follows: Terry got Gina (for whom he got wolf Webkinz, a wolf calendar, and various other wolf merchandise worth fifty dollars); Gina got Jake (nice blue suit jacket and dress shoes); Jake got Amy (a personalized stationery with A.S. monogramed, Old Hollywood  movies including: _The Philadelphia Story, The Lady Eve,_ and _Die Hard_ – which Jake has never seen the two former but loves the latter, and a red scarf); Amy got Boyle (the coffeemaker); Boyle got Rosa (a pocketknife and a leather jacket with a gift receipt); Rosa got Terry (cookbooks on how to make yogurt, greek yogurt, parfaits, smoothies, all the like). Hitchcock and Scully got each other, as to which they both got each other mugs that said “World’s Best Boss.” How both of them read each other’s minds, nobody knows. Even as a generalization, nobody cares. They are both content with their underpriced gifts.

“Haha,” Rosa laughs sarcastically, holding a red cup of soda. “I knew who everyone got within four days.”

“How?” Terry insists.

“I’m a detective. That’s what detectives do,” she maintains eye contact with him without actually moving her head. “There are eight participants. I got you, so you’re crossed off. Boyle previously asked me what kind of stuff I would take to a desert island– which I proceeded to say a pocket knife and a leather jacket– so I knew he got me. I overheard Gina talking to Nana on the phone– Nana is Jake’s grandma. I _saw_ Hitchcock and Scully buy each other the same gifts at the _same_ time. They didn’t even know and they were _together._ And once I knew who Jake got, I knew everyone’s.”

“So how did you know who Jake got?”

“I asked him to switch with me, and when he refused, he said, ‘No thanks, man. I really like who I got.’ The only people whom I didn’t know had who was you and Amy, and Jake likes Amy a little bit more than you. I mean, he went over the price range for her. That _Die Hard_ Special Edition DVD costs about twenty-five dollars on Amazon alone. Who knows how much he spent on a completed personalized stationery set?”

“Huh,” Terry ponders, “wait– you wanted to trade me?”

* * *

“Thanks for everything, Jake,” Amy says, as they walk up front to wait for her ride. It’s cold, but she’s wearing the scarf that Jake gave her.  “I mean, how did you know I liked those movies?”

“Oh well, you mentioned that theater in town that only shows old movies. I just did some research. They’re all romantic comedies,” Jake notifies her. He has one hand in his pocket, the other holding Gina’s gifts.

“I bet you’ve never watched any of them,” she observes.

“Nope,” he beams, laughing. She laughs with him too. It just started snowing.

The street is tinted orange under the street lamps, and it just started snowing. They watch with wonderment for thirty seconds before Jake speaks up first. He turns to her, “Amy, I know you’re with Teddy and I’ve lost my chance with you, but I just wanted you to know–  that I like you–  romantic stylez– with a z.”

A car pulls up the curb. “Jake, that’s my ride. I have to go,” Amy looks down, processing what just happened. “Merry Christmas! I’ll see you next year!” And with that, he’s left alone. He goes back to Charles’ house, motions for Gina to go, and they walk home.

“What’s up, Jakey-Jake?” she asks. “What’s up with the frowny-frown?”

“Nothing, Gina,” his voice cracks a little. Just nervousness. “Here,” he takes one of his earbuds and gives it to Gina, “let’s listen to the Glee version of Last Christmas and walk in silence.”

After all, they are just little-boy-holding-little-girl’s-hand.

 


End file.
